If There Are No Presents Beneath The Tree
by SomedayonBroadway
Summary: Jack is stress, Race is tired and Christmas is just around the corner.


**Hey friends! This is just a short little companion piece to If The House Burns Down. It was a request from a lovely reader of mine PeggyLaurens1! Thank you so much, friends! **

**Please enjoy! **

Jack forced himself up with a start. He sucked in a breath as his entire body shook.

He was freezing.

Someone shifted beside him and Jack couldn't bring himself to look over at the two precious children cuddled up together at his hip. He could only stare straight ahead at the wall, trying desperately to shake a nightmare out of his cluttered mind.

He was terrified to look down. Because this time, maybe they wouldn't be there.

This time that nightmare could become a reality.

"It ain't real..." he breathed to himself, closing his eyes for a moment and seeing everything all over again.

Race was kicking and screaming in someone's tight hold. And Charlie was sobbing in the back of an official looking black SUV. And Jack couldn't move. He couldn't run to them.

All he could do was fight with the invisible forces that held him still.

Shaking his head, Jack carefully stood up, scooping up his phone and forcing himself to look down. "I ain't real..." he repeated, watching as his two baby brother slept peacefully for a moment, Charlie's arms flung out over Race's back as the older boy lay flat on his stomach on the mattress, his neck twisted at an odd angle that would certainly hurt in the morning.

The small scene made Jack smile just a bit. For just a moment he calmed, taking in his surroundings.

They were still at Medda's. They were still together. For a moment Jack could breathe.

And then the world crashed back down on his shoulders.

Two jobs and they were still struggling. He worked two jobs and his little brother worked one and somehow they still were barely holding their heads above water. Not to mention the horrible reality of taking each and every pay check that his baby brother got.

Unable to do this again, sick even just thinking about another night without sleep, Jack dialed a familiar number and quietly walked out of the room, clicking the door shut behind him.

"Hey, Cowboy..." someone greeted, tired but definitely awake.

The voice calmed Jack, even if only for a moment. "Hey, Spottie..." Jack sighed, leaning back against the wall of the hallway and sliding down to the ground, dragging an exhausted hand over his face. "Sorry... I just... I knew you'd be awake... n'... I need... I can't sleep..."

The other man yawned, but still held all the patience in the world. "Ya wanna talk about it?" his slightly younger foster brother asked. And Jack swallowed hard as the images resurfaced in his mind. He curled in on himself, feeling alone.

Biting his lip, the young man shrugged. "I j'st... I know that they's mine... I know the judge said that they's mine... but without a house n' with me workin' two jobs..." He tried to explain, his voice catching on a sob that he held back so tightly. He didn't want to let it out. He hated that everything always seemed so temporary and the one thing that was supposed to make him feel safe and secure was almost ripped away from him. "I'm sorry..."

"You ain't got nothin' ta be sorry for, Jack... it ain't like this is n' easy thing ta do..." Spot reassured on the other line. "You have another nightmare?"

Sometimes it was easy for Jack to forget. To forget that he hadn't had these dreams over and over again, a hellish version of what might've happened back when Jack had been fighting. It was easy when Jack would wake up and have his brothers right next to him. It was easy when he'd wake up to Crutchie jumping right on him with a grin on his sweet face, or when the smell of Race's freshly cooked waffles drag him willingly into reality.

But then he'd have the dream again. The one where Tyler kicked and thrashed and reached out for him, begging him to just take his hand, to get him free. The one where Charlie screamed and sobbed and pounded on the glass that divided them, terrified of where he might end up next.

It always felt so real.

The young man wiped his nose on his sleeve, letting out a shaken breath. "I'm scared, Sean..." he admitted, his voice broken and drained. "The house is still wrecked n' I can't do nothin' about it... Tyler's been actin' up at school an' he won't talk ta me about nothin'... n' Christmas is comin' n' I ain't even ready ta think about that..." Jack ran a hand over his hair and gripped at the back of it. "I's scared someone'll call CPS and they'll find us here, crammed on one bed without a car n' they'll just tell me 'that's it'..." He finally broke at the end, letting out a small sob.

It had been a long few weeks. The house caught on fire. The car was sold to try and help pay for it. They'd been crashing at Medda's in her guest room.

It wasn't good enough. Not for them.

But there was nothing he could do.

The man on the other end of the line, however, begged to differ. "Hey... that ain't gonna happen..." he promised.

It was a common misconception, the big bad king of Brooklyn. Jack knew better. He knew this boy. They were friends.

"Now... Racer is just bein' an idiot. He did somethin' stupid, he's prob'ly embarrassed," he tried to explain, and Jack knew that. He did. But he'd never had to deal with his little brother not talking to him about things. Not only not talking to him, but going quiet in general. He always seemed to be sad or upset or anxious.

Jack missed his kid. His crazy, energetic, idiot little brother who never cared about his own recklessness. Not till now.

"And Christmas is still a few weeks away. I know you ain't gonna wanna hear this, but I can help ya out with Charlie." That's exactly what Jack didn't want to hear. Two jobs and it still wasn't enough.

After forcing his little brother to get a job, he did have the extra money coming in, only really allowing Race to keep his tips. It tore Jack's heart apart, having to do that to the kid.

But this was what responsibility was.

"Jackie?"

"I just... I ain't enough for them... I ain't eva' gonna be-"

"Okay, enough of that shit, Kelly. You are the best thing they have n' they love you. Now stop bein' such a sap n' go back ta bed. Don't worry 'bout Christmas right now. Just sleep." Spot had always had this interesting way of getting Jack to calm down, more so than anyone else in his life. Katherine could get him to settle down and talk, but Spot was the one who got him out of his head, weather it was with words or something stronger.

With a small sigh, Jack nodded. "Okay..." he ran a hand down over his eyes. "Okay... I'm sorry..."

"Goodnight, Jack." It was more of an order than a goodbye. But when the other man hung up, Jack did too, letting his head hang low as he tried to just clear his racing mind.

He just didn't know what to do, how he was going to do this.

But he took a deep breath and he stood back up, sauntering back into his bedroom where his heart swelled at the small sight all over again.

He walked in, carefully reaching for Race's shoulders and turning him onto his back, watching Charlie shift as he tried o find his big brother in his sleep. Jack chuckled to himself and very carefully scooped the boy up, moving to lay down beside him.

Reaching out, he placed one of his hands on Charlie's chest and another over the small boy, landing it in Tyler's hair.

They were here. They were okay. Everything was okay.

He had them. And as long as he had them, everything would be okay.

—

It was amazing how comfortable Race had become with the shortcut to the principal's office. Make a right at the end of the English hallway, cut through the empty cafeteria, say hi to the janitor and then he's there, standing in a silent, awkward waiting room outside a big, heavy door that said 'Principal Todd Kloppman' on a small silver sign.

It wasn't his fault. So he'd talked back to a teacher. Weasel was asking for it. Weasel was always asking for it.

His leg bounced up and down as he wondered how long this would possibly take, what Jack would say this time while he ran back and forth from the kitchen to the diners who never had a clue how stressed Jack was.

It was impossible. Having a job at Jacobi's was a help to the financial crisis that he'd caused, but having to work right beneath his guardian was rough. Being trained for a job by his big brother was rough. Being carefully supervised by his big brother every moment of the day was hard.

He loved Jack. He was just so scared of tripping up again.

"Mr. Kelly..." Kloppman sighed, snapping the boy out of his day dream as he looked up from his slumped position in his chair.

The boy didn't move. Not at first anyways. He looked up, almost begging the man to just leave him be for a few more minutes while he let his mind distract itself in anyways possible. He was tired. He didn't want to go through this with him again.

But Kloppman simply nodded towards his office. And Race complied quietly, lowering his head as he stood and allowed his principal to usher him into the other room.

The boy sat without question at the chair that all of the staff members joked might be called his soon enough. Running a hand through his hair, he tried to rehearse his argument in his mind quick before the man began speaking.

It was typically the same conversation. Kloppman would lecture him on why he was supposed to show respect to all of his teachers and classmates. He was never given a reason. Just a demand. And he was expected to follow it.

But Race was really bad at following orders.

When the man sat down, silent for a moment, the shaking in Race's leg began again. If there was one thing everyone new about Race, it was that he did not do well with silence. When it continued, the boy could only shake his head. "Ya know, sendin' me here ta think about what I's done's only g'nna contribute ta the F on my next exam," he stated, his whole body conveying irritation and distain.

The man was not amused. In fact, he was hardly even fazed. "Okay... I'm gonna ask a couple different questions today, okay?" This man was known throughout the school as being patient and calm and collected and nicer than most. But Race could feel that all wearing agonizingly thin. "How are things at home, Tyler?"

That caught the kid slightly off guard. It was a question he didn't appreciate too much. Especially after the last time it was asked.

Just because it had turned out okay this time, doesn't mean it would this time.

Big blue eyes flickered up, questioning the man, hesitant of giving the wrong answer or anything even close to it. Terrified of being too sure or too unsure. "It's... it's fine..." he stated, twiddling his thumbs and trying to remain focused.

Jack told him he would try to get him some meds soon. Something to just help him focus.

That's was months ago.

"Are you sure?" the man asked, leaning forward, closer to him. He looked at Race like he could see straight through him. "You're always falling asleep in class, your grades are dropping more than they'd been before, and you seem to want to bite the head off of anyone who looks at you wrong."

The kid sat up just a little bit. This man wouldn't understand. Not many did. It was taxing to have people look at him wrong everyday, just for simply existing. "Wouldn't you?" he shot at the old man, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tyler, I'm just trying to make sure you're okay. I'm just trying to make sure you don't need help, okay? Otherwise, I need to get in touch with your parents..." The old man seemed sad about that.

But Race only snorted. "Good luck with that..."

He never meant to cause headaches or outbursts. But it always seemed to happen anyways. "Tyler Kelly, do you have any idea how close you are to suspension right now?!"

That hiss is what made Race actually panic a bit. "What?! No! You can't do that! He called me n' idiot! I just returned the favor!"

"What is this really about, kid?" Kloppman was practically pleading with him to just spill it. To just get whatever was on his chest off of it. "I know this isn't just high school... it's more... so I'm gonna ask again... are you okay?"

It was happening now. The thing that Race really has been trying not to do.

He broke.

It was so much. The past few weeks was so much. And before he knew it, he was spilling everything. "I... I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "M-my house caught on fire, okay?! N' my brothers n' I can't go home n' we all share one bed, n' I had ta get a job ta help pay for it n' Jack's scared cause he thinks someone'll call CPS on him n' I don't wanna go ta court again n' my little brother ain't gonna have a good Christmas this year cause all our money is goin' towards fixin' the house n' it's all my fault!" he cried out, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.

Kloppman paused at that, his heart breaking for the boy. "Oh, Tyler... hey... look at me... it's okay..." he coaxed, feeling for this boy.

The kid didn't look up. "Please don't call CPS..." he begged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Please... please don't call no one... my brother... he's got enough ta worry about... I j'st... I'm tryin'... I'll do betta', I promise!"

"This isn't a one time thing, Tyler... you're struggling... you know you're struggling..." his principal insisted again, trying not to get caught up in the poor child's cries. "I'm sorry... I'm going to get in contact with your guardian... we need to work this out..."

Race did not like the sound of that. But he had no room to argue. There was no changing this man's mind.

He just prayed Jack wouldn't be angry with him.

He hoped his big brother would understand.

—

"This message is for James Kelly from Roosevelt High School, this is Todd Kloppman calling to schedule a parent/teacher conference for Tyler Kelly. If you could call me back at 555-3162 to let me know when you're available, that would be great. Thank you."

Jack groaned. He leaned forward on the counter, letting his forehead fall into his hand as he sat at the counter of Jacobi's.

"What happened?"

Sighing, the young man only glanced up at the child who sat up happily on the counter beside him. "Nothin', baby... just your brother gettin' on my last nerve."

Crutchie cocked his head to the side as he sipped on a glass of water. "He got detention again?" the boy asked.

"Somethin' like that," Jack conformed, trying like hell to offer some kind of smile before he heard the bell of the diner jingle. He turned and found shoulders dropping a bit in relief. He stood to greet the young woman who rushed up to him. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek as she smiled.

"Hi, baby! I'm so sorry I'm late!" She kisses Jack back right on the lips before turning to Charlie. "I had to get an article finished today, so I stayed a couple minutes over, but I'm here!"

Jack laughed walking over to his baby brother. "It's okay, Kat..." He ran a hand over the kid's hair. "Ya ready ta go, bud?" The child nodded eagerly. And Jack presses a goodbye kiss to his forehead before looking over at his girl. "Okay, keep him outta trouble n' get him in bed by eight thirty," he reminded.

The child gave him a bit of a solute that made Jack chuckle again. But Katherine nodded. "Of course, love. Don't work too hard, okay?"

At that, the young man did not answer. It was better if he just shrugged and let his girl take his baby brother home to help him with his homework and get him fed. He would work hard. He would flirt with everyone. He would break his back if it meant getting a five buck tip. Because he needed those tips.

And Katherine knew that.

"Love you," he breathed.

"Love you," she shot right back as she helped Charlie down off the counter and took his hand. "Alright, munchkin, lets get this show on the road!"

"O-Kay!" the boy agreed, practically bouncing. "Love ya, Jackie!"

That boy would never cease to put a smile on Jack's face. Even as he walked away. "Love ya, Charlie!"

He turned to watch them go, shoving his hands in the pockets of his uniform. He turned to find one of his brothers walking out, and the other rushing in, only giving Katherine a quick kiss on the cheek and Charlie a pat on the head as they went.

Jack sighed.

"I know! I know! I'm sorry! The bus was late leavin' n' I had ta run from the bus stop, but I'm here-"

"Relax, Tyler..." Jack ordered, walking up to him. "You're three minutes early."

Hearing this, the boy stopped to catch his breath, taking a step back. "Wait, really?"

Jack nodded. He stepped to give the boy a pat on the shoulder, ushering him to the back. "Go on... clean yourself up before you clock in," he instructed. It was gentle and calm and collected. Because Jack had to stay calm and collected right now.

The boy nodded and wobbly made his way to the back, ready for once to just do as he was told, knowing that Jack had more than likely just gotten the call from his principal. He stopped at the door to the kitchen and turned around to his brother who was looking through his phone for something.

Race sighed. "Jackie..." he called, shifting shyly as the man looked up at him. "I'm sorry..."

It was all he said before he turned to get to work.

But it broke Jack's heart nonetheless.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket. His break was almost over. He could deal with this.

It would all be okay.

—

Race wandered over to his big brother who finally collapsed on the couch at almost midnight. A lot of Race's friends thought it was cool that Jack worked at a bar.

Race hated it. It meant Jack worked at night a lot. It meant he had to deal with drunk, rude customers. It meant that he had to deal with walking home in a sketchy part of town late at night.

"Hey, Jackie..." the boy greeted.

The man smiled up at him as he slipped his shoes off, sighing in relief as he finally just relaxed. "Hey, Racer," he replied, opening his arm up, an invitation for his brother.

The kid plopped down right beside him, an envelope in his hand. "Here..."

Jack took it, leaning over to press a kiss to the boy's forehead before opening it to find the kid's last paycheck and a small bag of cash. He smiled, but took the cash out. "You can keep your tips kiddo... ya know that..." he said, trying to hand it back.

But Race shook his head. "No... I know that... and I have been... n'... I know what I wanna do with what I got..."

"What's that, kid?"

Hardly even thinking about it, Race just shrugged. "Charlie... I wanna give Charlie a good Christmas..." he stated, looking over at his brother who looked back at him so lovingly. "Jack... this whole thing is my fault n'... you keep tryin' ta let me forget it... but I can't... n'... I can't forget it..."

Jack didn't respond. He just reached a hand up to run it through his kid's hair.

"I'm tryin' ta fix it, Jackie... n' I... I feel like all I'm doin' is screwin' everythin' up... so I wanna do this..."

A small smile spread on Jack's face as his heart just about melted. "Hey... you're not a screwup..." The boy only scoffed at him and shook his head. "Tyler James, you are not a screwup," Jack repeated. He turned further towards the kid, taking the child's face in his hands. "You make dumb decisions sometimes, pal. We all do. But _you_ are not a screwup..."

Race let the words sink in. And he nodded. "Okay..."

"Okay," Jack smiled. "I'm proud of you, ya know that?" The kid let out a small laugh and shyly looked away. But Jack didn't let him go. "Hey... let's give your brother a good Christmas, yeah?"

Eagerly enough, the boy nodded and then leaned in to give Jack a tight hug.

And if nothing else, the excited look on little Charlie's face on Christmas morning was worth everything and more.

Maybe they couldn't spend Christmas in their own house. But they were home. Because they had each other, they were home.

**I know we're a little late for Christmas, but that's okay. **

**Anyways!**

**As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies! **


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